


Sleeping Arrangements

by Persiflage



Series: Cousy Fest 2k17 [3]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Cousy Fest 2k17, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene, Older Man/Younger Woman, POV Phil Coulson, Season/Series 02, Season/Series 03, Sharing a Bed, Sleeping Together, Slow Build, Tenderness, The Retreat Safe House (Marvel), Workplace Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-12 12:09:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10490580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: Four missing scenes featuring occasions when Phil Coulson shares a bed with Daisy Johnson.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Cousy Fest 2k17 for the Day 3 prompt 'Sleeping Arrangements'.

**The Writing on the Wall**

"I didn't want to wake you," Coulson tells Skye.

"Do I look like I've been sleeping?" she asks, and he wonders why she's asking him that – she was definitely sound asleep in his bed when he slipped out of it earlier to come and carve. He sort of regrets that – not sleeping with her (that's all they've done – right now sex would be out of the question, even if Skye was interested, and he's fairly sure she's not), but leaving her in his bed to wake alone while he succumbed to his compulsion again. He'd hoped – vainly, as it turns out – that revealing the truth to Skye would mean an end to the carving. But it seems he's not that lucky.

She walks over to join him near the wall where he's been carving, and her fingers brush lightly against his wrist – a fleeting touch that nevertheless seems heavy with meaning, he's just not sure what the meaning is, much like with this carving. Skye says it's a map, but as yet she has no idea what or where it's a map to, and the not knowing is pretty frustrating, to tell the truth.

"You should come back to bed," she says. "It's still early enough."

His fingers pluck at the hem of his t-shirt, and he's startled when she wraps her fingers over his, carefully stilling them. "I – I don't think I could sleep," he tells her softly.

"Because of this?" she asks, nodding at the wall.

He nods back, and she slides her hands from his onto his wrists, then up his arms as far as his elbows, her eyes fixed on his face. When he doesn't object, she lightly slides her hands the rest of the way up to his shoulders, then she draws his body closer to hers until her arms are wrapped carefully around him and he relaxes slightly in her gentle grip.

"You'd be better off sleeping than carving," she says softly, "but if the compulsion won't leave you alone – "

"It won't," he answers.

"Then I'll leave you to it," she says softly.

"Could you – " He stops, swallows, then grits his teeth, feeling a muscle jump in his jaw.

"Do you want me to stay?" she asks, and he wonders how she does that, how she can read his mind.

"Please."

"Okay. Mind if I go and get some coffee?"

He shakes his head wordlessly, and she pushes up onto her tiptoes to brush her lips lightly against his cheek.

"I'll be as quick as I can," she promises, and he nods, then eases away from her to grab another box cutter. Her fingers brush lightly across his shoulderblades, and then his attention is pulled back to the wall and the strange symbols thereon.

He's grateful when she puts the record back on before she goes to get some coffee.

**Love in the Time of HYDRA**

"You should get some rest," Coulson tells Skye as she finishes washing up after their shared lunch.

"Yeah." Her voice sounds heavy and her expression is defeated, and he can't help it, he goes to her and as she sets aside the towel, he wraps his arms around her, holding her close. After a little while he notices she's shaking and he pulls back to see tears standing in her eyes.

"C'mon," he says gently. "Let's get you to bed." 

She lets him guide her through to the bedroom, and he removes her boots as she sits on the edge of the bed.

"Do you want to leave the gloves on?" he asks.

"I'd rather take them off," she says, looking down at her arms. "But they'd better stay on. I don't think Dr Banner would thank me for literally bringing his house down."

He brushes her hair back from her face, then cups her cheek carefully. "Are you going to be okay?"

She swallows, then bites her bottom lip, before she nods. "Yeah, Coulson, it's okay. I know you need to get back."

He checks his watch. "I can stay for a couple more hours, if you'd like me to."

Her face lights up, and he gestures for her to lie down, then he slips off his shoes, jacket, and tie. She looks a bit wide-eyed when he settles on the bed beside her, but he hears the little sigh of relief she utters when he wraps his left arm around her shoulders and encourages her to rest her head on his shoulder. 

She snuggles (there's really no other word, he feels) against him, and he feels all the tension drain out of her as she drops into sleep. He presses his lips lightly to her hair and wishes he could do more to help her: he can't forget how she looked after him, and how much her presence helped him, after he finally admitted to her that he was carving the alien symbols. She had slept beside him, guarding him almost, and he'd felt such comfort in her presence. He hopes she'll feel the same way.

He wakes some time later to the sound of his cell phone ringing, and it takes him a moment to recognise where he is (in the bedroom of the Retreat) and whose warm body it is that's draped over his (Skye). Her knee is pressing lightly against his crotch, and he's embarrassed to realise he's hard beneath the fabric of his suit pants. She stirs before he can extricate himself, and he blushes when he sees her glance down at the bulge of his erection. He blushes even more when she smirks, then leans in to press her lips lightly against his.

"Hadn't you better answer that call?" she asks against his mouth.

"Yeah," he mutters, and bites back an undignified whine when she peels her body off his. He presses his palm against his cock, and she smirks some more, then he swings his legs off the bed and looks for his jacket.

When he hangs up the phone a few minutes later, Skye's got a resigned expression on her face, and he's no longer hard, which is probably just as well.

They exchange a brief hug and she kisses him more firmly than before, then follows him to the door. 

"I'll see you in a couple of days," he promises, and she nods.

"And then we'll talk?" she asks, and he nods. 

"Then we'll talk," he confirms, then he makes himself turn away and head across the grass to where the Quinjet awaits him. He glances back just before boarding, and Skye waves, so he waves back briefly, then boards. Leaving her behind feels wrong, somehow, but they've both agreed it's the safest thing to do, right now.

He decides that he's going to tell her how he feels when he comes back in two days time: she deserves to know.

**S.O.S.**

Consciousness comes back slowly to Coulson, but as it does he becomes aware of two things simultaneously: his left arm hurts, and there's a warm body at his back. Before he can even open his eyes the arm across his torso gently squeezes him, and lips press to the side of his neck.

"It's okay, Coulson, I've got you."

_Skye,_ he thinks gratefully. He tries to shift onto his back from his right side, and pain lances through him, making him gasp as tears start from his eyes.

"Gently, gently," she tells him, and he feels her strong, powerful hands holding him as she eases him onto his back. "There you go."

"Skye." His voice is a hoarse croak that startles him.

"Hey Phil," she says softly. "Want some water?"

"Please."

She nods, then climbs off the bed, and he tries and fails not to whine at the loss of her warmth at his back. "Shh, Phil, it's okay. I'm coming back."

He watches through half closed eyes and a haze of pain as she moves across the room – his quarters, he belatedly realises – to fetch him a glass of water. She sets it on the nightstand, then eases him upright, pushing his pillows in behind his back to prop him up. She perches on the edge of the bed and holds the glass steady for him, for which he's grateful as his hands – he's only got one hand, he realises with a shock that hits him like a hammer blow.

He doesn’t know what his face is doing, but Skye quickly sets the glass aside again and shifts closer to him, wrapping her arms about his shoulders – and he realises he's shaking, violent shudders that feel like the tremors Skye used to cause before she got her powers under control. And the memory of catching a Terrigen crystal, only to have it break in his grasp, and of Mack swinging a fire axe down onto his arm slams back into his consciousness, and he feels his stomach rebel.

"Gonna – " he mutters, but that's all he can manage before he starts heaving. He doesn't actually vomit, for which he supposes he should be grateful (he hasn't vomited on a woman since he was a child), but it's close. 

Skye seems to take it all in her stride, as unfazed by this as by so many other things. She takes care of him, her touch gentle and careful as she bathes his sweaty face and neck with a damp cloth, gives him the water he desperately needs, and resettles him on his bed.

"Where's Dr Simmons?" he asks after a bit. Not that he minds Skye looking after him, but it's not her job.

"With Bobbi," Skye says, and he feels his face burn. He'd forgotten – for the moment – that Ward had done his best to cripple Bobbi. "Do you want me to fetch Jemma?"

He shakes his head, then winces at the lance of pain. He sees her check his watch – and that brings a surge of anger, seeing his father's watch lying on his nightstand because he no longer has a wrist to wear it on – then she says, "It's nearly time for your painkillers, anyway, so I'll slip along to get Jemma or one of the other med people to come and give them to you."

He swallows. "Okay." 

She leans down and presses her lips to his brow. "I'll be back as soon as I can." She gently squeezes his shoulder, then goes out, and he closes his eyes and wonders what use he'll be to anyone now: it might've been better if Mack hadn't chopped his hand off.

"How are you, sir?"

Simmons' artificially bright voice snaps his eyes open, and he does his best to smile at her. "Still alive, apparently."

"Yes, you are. That was very quick thinking on the part of Mack." She gives him a bright smile, then talks about his care, and he tries to concentrate on what she's saying, but it's a struggle.

"Jemma."

Skye's soft voice cuts through the haze in Coulson's mind, and he opens his eyes (when did he close them, he wonders) to see Skye standing beside Simmons. "I think the Director's struggling to take this in right now," she tells Jemma. 

Simmons gives him a look that he can't interpret, then nods briskly, gives him a shot, then tells Skye to fetch her if there's any change in his condition.

"Thank you," Coulson whispers when Skye starts straightening his bedding. She cocks her head, so he elaborates, "I wasn't taking that in."

She snorts quietly. "Of course not, Phil. You're drugged to the eyebrows. I love Jemma but I think she sometimes forgets the rest of us aren't medical geniuses."

"Yeah," he says feelingly.

"Why don't you get some more sleep," she suggests. "You look like you need it."

"Will you stay with me? Please?"

"You mean in the bed, like before?" He bites his bottom lip, then gives a tiny nod. "If that'll make you feel better."

"Please."

"Okay."

She circles the bed, then climbs in on his left side, before persuading him to lie on his right so she can spoon with him. She's very mindful of his foreshortened arm, which is strapped against his body, as she wraps her own powerful arms around his torso. She presses her lips to the back of his neck.

"Go to sleep, Phil," she says softly, and he sighs, then closes his eyes, and sleep claims him almost at once.

**Purpose in the Machine**

"What?" Daisy's voice is thick with sleep, and Coulson eases his body back from hers, then he waits until she rolls onto her back to frown up at him. She looks beautiful, he thinks treacherously: she's exhausted from using her powers to hold open the portal for so long, and her clothes and hair are dishevelled from sleep, but she still looks gorgeous.

"Hey," he says quietly.

"What happened?" she asks, and scrubs at her face.

"You fell asleep trying to eat after Fitz pulled Simmons back," he says.

"Oh god. Sorry."

"Don't be," he says firmly. "You have nothing to be sorry about. You did a brilliant job, Skye." He sees her face and realises that, yet again, he's used the wrong name. "Dammit. Daisy, you were amazing."

She chuckles weakly. "Your heart eyes are showing, Phil," she teases, and he blushes. She reaches up and cups his cheek. "It's nothing to be embarrassed about."

"It kinda is," he argues. "I'm the Director of SHIELD."

"And that precludes you having hearteyes?" 

He swallows hard. "I'm not supposed to have favourites."

Her eyes go wide. "I'm your favourite Agent?" She asks it disbelievingly and he wonders how she could fail to know this – he thought he'd been pretty obvious for the last two years.

"Daisy," he says firmly, and is so pleased he gets her name right this time. "You're my favourite person in the whole world." He feels like a little kid, making such a declaration, but he's not going to lie to her.

"What about Captain Rogers?" she asks, her tone teasing again.

He smirks. "He's my second favourite."

She chuckles. "Good answer, Phil." Then she startles him by guiding his head down towards hers and a soft moan escapes him as she kisses him. He kisses her back unhesitatingly: he's been wanting this for two years, after all. It's funny, he thinks, they've slept together a few times, but that's all they've ever done – just slept, their bodies wrapped around each other. Now, though, he senses, they'll do more than merely sleep.

Daisy's kissing him, and he gets so into the kissing that he fails to notice that she's worked his shirt buttons undone until her palm slides across his skin. He moans when her fingers find and tweak his left nipple, then she pushes him onto his back and he watches through lust-hazed eyes as she pulls his shirt open. It takes him a moment to realise she's gazing at his scar, and a part of him wants to cover it up, but then she places her palm flat over his heart, and her expression is pretty adoring, he thinks.

"I'm not glad you died," she says softly. "And I'm not happy with the way Fury brought you back. But I am so, so glad that you did come back, Phil."

He swallows, feeling tears pricking at the back of his eyes. "Me too," he whispers.

She nods, then settles her body over his and he moans as she begins kissing him, her body shifting against his so that he can feel his cock thickening and lengthening despite the confines of his jeans.

"Daisy," he gasps, and she lifts her mouth from his to give him an enquiring look. "I want – " 

She shifts so that her crotch slides down his thigh, then she cups his crotch. "I think I know what you want, Phil," she tells him with a wicked smirk.

"Please," he moans, and she gets his jeans unfastened, then wraps his fingers around his cock, and he moans again.

A few minutes later they're both naked, and as she sinks down over his swollen shaft he moans again as he feels his cock stretching her walls as she takes him in.

"Fuck," he mutters as her walls tighten around him once he's fully sheathed inside her.

She smirks. "That's the plan, Phil."

He chuckles weakly, then clasps her waist and begins to thrust as she rides him.

Afterwards he thinks it might be the best first-time sex he's ever had with anyone. He suspects that part of it's because Daisy's the first person he's been in love with for some time before actually having sex with them. But he suspects it's also because it's Daisy, and as she's said before, they're like pieces to a puzzle – they simply fit together in every way possible.

After cleaning themselves up and getting dressed again, they settle back onto the bed in the Director's cabin, lying on their sides facing each other. Coulson takes great pleasure in simply touching Daisy, and she gives him a sleepy, sated smile, then asks, "Mind if I get some more sleep?"

"Of course not," he says earnestly.

"Thanks, Phil." She kisses him softly, then urges him to lie on his back before positioning her head on his shoulder, her right arm wrapped around him, and their legs tangled together. He wraps his right arm around her, and presses his lips to her hair as she sighs, then goes completely limp as sleep claims her again.

He likes this sleeping arrangement, he decides, and allows himself to doze.


End file.
